


The Dæmons of Angels

by TheMermaidLord



Series: The Dæmons of Supernatural [2]
Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Did I mention angst, Gen, I Tried, Suicidal Thoughts, i guess, i haven't seen the earlier seasons in a while, no relationships - Freeform, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-19 10:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4742579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMermaidLord/pseuds/TheMermaidLord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dæmons of the angels from Supernatural. Is the title a play on words? Never mind. Not all of the angels, but a good few.</p><p>No actual His Dark Materials characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Archangels

_When God first made life and form, He knew there must be counterbalance. He had infinite power, an infinite universe to display it in, and Leora, in all her everchanging forms, to remind him how to use it. Life without Leora was unimaginable, incomprehensible, impossible. She had always been there, flowing through her infinite forms as easily as a stream through a valley, keeping Him safe and keeping Him right. He knew companionship was important, to not depend on anyone was to be proud and arrogant, and to have no one was to not depend on anyone. He didn't yet know that to have someone was also to have someone who would share and encourage your pride and arrogance._

_He would learn._

 

**Michael and Safiya**

For His first child, Michael, Leora gave it's strongest, most careful, most compassionate form. The dragon Safiya was white, lined with white gold. Her talons were capable of both destroying mountains and plucking the smallest insect from the air without leaving it with a single scratch, as kind as her partner, the oldest sibling, watchful over all. She was small, for a dragon, but her fires held the heat of gods. She and Michael would fly together, for days, in perfect harmony that only he and Lucifer could match.

Gabriel and Raphael tried, once, for everyone's sake, but ended up arguing mid-air, setting on fire, and tumbling into the late Triassic. Raphael would later deny that she was laughing /at all/. For so long, they lived in near perfect harmony, watching their family grow and the earth develop. When God displayed His heavenly wrath on earth for the first time, when He decided that the dinosaurs could never be what He needed, Michael and Safiya held each other close, and when it was over, flew together over the wreckage and cried.

Michael was the glue that bound his siblings together, that kept the peace in heaven, and Safiya did the same for him. The Angels came to him with their squabbles or problems (most of which involved Gabriel, Balthazar and Castiel, who seemed to have formed a gang) and he would try to be just, and good, and at the same time try his very hardest not to laugh. When he noticed the definite soft spot Raphael, his enforcer as well as healer, had for the little band of trouble makers, he actually snorted in front of Naomi, and got a disgusted look from Safiya from across the room. While Michael kept his siblings together, and happy, Safiya did the same for him.

_(One day, as they stared down into the cage that Lucifer had just been thrown into, alone and together, Safiya realised that both of them had failed.)_

 

**Lucifer and Cyrilla**

For His second child, Lucifer (when he had another name that the angels no longer speak, a name from before the Mark of Cain took its terrible toll), Leora gave it's brightest, freshest, most beautiful form. The peacock Cyrilla held all the colours of God's realm, as beautiful as her partner, who could light up the night skies with a single wingbeat. They were the most beautiful of God's creations, his brightest stars, and though they were not exactly humble, they were good of heart. For the longest time, Lucifer could not be as awe-inspiring in battle as his sibling, maybe afraid, even back then, that in combat the worst part of himself would be brought to the surface.

Being unable to hurt living creatures (at least for a while) made Lucifer even more beloved of his siblings, and him and Cyrilla could use this to shirk their duties for days at a time, and they would fly to earth, or cause destruction with Gabriel and his friends, or fly to purgatory and pick a fight. Even the other archangels could not dislike them, although they were more immune to Lucifer's charms. Michael looked on him as his closest, if not most reliable brother. Raphael saw all the good in him hidden under that layer of angelic cockiness. Gabriel saw a big sibling, for whom he would travel to the ends of the earth.

Together, Lucifer and his peacock flew amongst the people and animals of their Father's greatest kingdom, Earth, singing and laughing and creating the greatest art, and ignoring the darkness pooling within them.

_(Eventually, ignoring it wouldn't be enough, and they would be thrown to earth, tears in Lucifers eyes but also deep rage, and the colours of Cyrilla's rainbow plumage burning away to be replaced by brightest white that would be so often splattered with blood)_

 

**Raphael and Jaylen**

For His third child, Raphael, Leora gave it's wisest, most loyal, most selfless form. The swan, Jaylen was gifted with the power of healing, like his partner, and also her ability to care and not show it. Their patients did not want to see a sobbing, worried healer, they needed one who would not fail. Raphael and Jaylen would bury their emotions until it eventually it became a habit, a necessity, because they needed to be dependable, to be solid, to be there. When it got too much, they would fly, and fly, away from responsibilities, and then scream, and curse, and rage, and cry, and then sit and think. And then pack away all emotion and fly home. Often Gabriel would follow, and wait for the crying, and comfort a sister who was convinced to be herself was a weakness.

Once, a little blue eyed bundle of black feathers, a fledgling barely out of childhood, still living the fear of her most of them used to feel, maybe still do, followed her. Right when she started to scream, he wrapped his clumsy little grace around her, and they were okay, at least for a while.

They had happy times as well, of course, though these grew fewer as the problems of heaven grew greater, because Raphael insisted on shouldering all of these by herself. But they could fly together, faster than any of their Father's other angels, sweeping and turning and almost dancing through the air, occasionally joined by brothers and sisters, and they could let go and be free. And if problems came later, well, they could always find a quiet place to scream.

_(They never would have guessed that one day there would be problems and deaths that couldn't be screamed out of, and they would have to be steel full-time, because heaven was depending on them and to be themselves was a weakness)_

 

  **Gabriel and Nia**

For His fourth child, Gabriel, Leora gave it's brightest, most cheerful, most caring form. The kingfisher Nia was small, and quick, and as full of mischief as her partner. Together they were the sole terror of heaven, aloft of bright wings, flying seemingly carelessly, and watching chaos unfold below. It was impossible not to love them, so at one with each other, so understanding, and such good listeners, even if they didn't look it.

Maybe God, even back then, saw the mistakes He had made in Lucifer, saw how easily that beauty could turn sour, and attempted to counter it. Gabriel was beautiful, yes, but it was a weathered beauty, flashing golden with the sun. It was a caring beauty, squandered on siblings and full of love and hope for the world. Where Lucifer could be cold and untouchable, on his worst days, Gabriel glowed with light and warmth, and best of all, didn't care. On one occasion a small group of fledglings asked to see his wings, and somehow came out of the encounter with a golden feather each. There were always those who said Gabriel and Nia were like a Lucifer and Cyrilla point two, but in truth they could not have been more different.

Nia was large, for a kingfisher, but still small compared to the dæmons of Gabriel's siblings. She was agile, and one one memorable occasion caught up with Jaylen and splattered his wings pink before flying even faster back to Gabriel, the two of them then barely surviving Raphael's word based wrath. When she finally released them, as quivering wrecks, she started to laugh, stopping only when Jayden flicked paint at her.

Prank wars aside, Gabriel and Nia were more compassionate than people knew. They would look after the fledglings, teach them to fly and lull them to sleep. If you were careful, if you snuck up on them while the fledglings rested and grew, Gabriel and Nia would sing, and for a short time everything would be okay. Until it wasn't. Until singing couldn't make it so. And the fourth archangel and his kingfisher learned how to be selfish.

_(And Gabriel flew to earth, and stuffed his grace deep down, crying and thinking of his Father and of Lucifer's Fall and Raphael's screams and Castiel's fluffy, black wings and when he looked at Nia, she was a short gold-green snake looking at him with sadness in her amber eyes.)_


	2. Uriel, Anael and Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, I've just started watching OUAT and that's been taking up the majority of my time. (Rumpelstiltskin x Belle makes me want to cry). This chapter is the sad one. Also, I am aware how similar the names of Cas' dæmon and Sam's dæmon are, and this wasn't intentional, I'm sorry.

**Uriel and Harva**

Uriel, when he was first Created, had always been different from the other angels. His interest in humanity wasn't so strange, and distrust of superiors was not unheard of, at an early age. Harva, when she appeared as a black crow, was treated as any other dæmon. From an outside point of view, she was any other dæmon. No one could see any trace of plotting, or paranoia, or secret whispers. Uriel was larger than your average fledgling, sure, but that wasn't odd.

No, the odd thing about Uriel and Harva was that they had the presence of mind, from when they first came into existence, to hide the 'interest' and the mistrust and the secret whispers.

When Uriel thought about it, which was often, he supposed he had been some sort of mistake. No other angels that he had seen really misliked humanity. They were annoyed by them, sure, but more than that? No. And he had never heard of any secrets being kept from the rest of the host. When he felt guilty, which was less often, he convinced himself that the Father must have wanted him this way, the first breed of a new angel which would.... what? He never really got further than that. A dim hint of 'destroy the humans?' hovered somewhere, but that was proper rebellion, and Uriel had no wish to move against heaven. His little secrets weren't betrayal, because surely God didn't make mistakes. So was he a mistake? It was easier not to think about it.

When Harva thought about it, occasionally, she found a sort of secret thrill. She was almost certain they had been a mistake, her and him, but it didn't feel _bad_. Keeping secrets from the grown-ups is a thrill that every child feels, doing things you know are forbidden just for the rush, and what are angels if not children? The idea of being something different, something _special_  excited her more than anything else. She didn't think about it much, but when she did, there was an idea that they were meant to start something. As to what that something was, she had no idea. When she felt guilty, which was only ever when Uriel prodded her into it, all she had to do was think about the humans strutting about below, using stones and paints to make their mark on her world, and how the something they had been made to start was certainly going to get rid of _them._

 When God thought about it, which was more often than He liked to admit, He worried. God didn't make mistakes, not when creating angels, but the ideas behind them He often regretted, and this was no exception. All angels had to have a flaw, to be perfect was to understand Him more than He could be comfortable with, and an imperfect Being couldn't create something perfect even if it tried, anyway. When making Lucifer, He had tried to pile all of Lucifer's flaw into one place, his pride, and by now knew He would suffer for it. Uriel was one of his first experiments into free will, but it seemed to have turned. Still, both were not a threat currently, and He couldn't see any path that would make them into one.

Uriel was flying with his Garrison, led by Lucifer, an event that only happened once a year and was to be enjoyed. Although it was meant to be a pleasure flight, Uriel and Harva found going fast pleasurable, and they found themselves at the very front of the group. Looking down, he saw the humans living in his particular part of East Asia gawking up at what they saw as shooting stars.

"Pathetic little things, aren't they?" He murmured to Harva. Lucifer, from maybe a metre ahead of him, turned and cocked his head, squinting as though he'd never seen Uriel before.

"Yes." He said, slowly. "They are, aren't they?"

**Anna and Furud**

When Anael was Created, there was confusion. The little line of fledglings hanging in the air, destined to be leaders in their garrisons, was being inspected. Naomi was taking an interest in the bundle of chestnut wings with the bald eagle dæmon, Gabriel was studying the amber-winged one with the robin, and Ezekiel was staring at the tiny red winged angel named Anael with the most peculiar expression. He stared for twenty more minutes before laughing and gesturing to Gabriel. While the fledglings were still sleeping, their grace still shaping and growing, Anael's dæmon was awake.A tiny kestrel chick nestled in the folds of her grace, shaking it's head and attempting to free itself. Nia smiled, if birds can, and flew forwards.

"What's your name, little one?" It paused it's scrambles to give Nia the most condescending look ever seen on the face of a bird.

"My name is Furud. Why is she not _waking up_?"

Nia looked slightly startled, and glared at Gabriel as he sniggered. "Um, the grace is supposed to take at least another week before it finishes maturing and the angel can-" Anael opened her eyes, and shakily unfurled her russet wings. "-wake up." finished Nia, looking skyward like she was personally blaming the Father for everything bad ever to happen.

Furud looked at Anael in a way that was _almost_ tender before saying, in a way that was most definitely _not_ , "Finally. You took ages."

Anael looked at him for a second, not particularly offended. Then, "No need to be so impatient."

After such a start in life, no one was really surprised when Anna rose to the top so quickly. She was efficient, she was clever, and she followed orders quickly and well. Respectful around her superiors and relaxed and funny around her inferiors and equals, if there was such thing as a perfect angel, it was Anna. Furud grew as well, if in a slightly different way. He stayed a chick for a long time, longer than normal or necessary, and even when he was fully grown, he stayed scrawny and ragged. Him and Anna always had some constant back-and-forth banter going on, cram-packed with inside jokes and sarcasm. Furud had a wickedly sharp beak and talons, and whatever he lost in looks he made up for in sheer ferocity in a fight. Although from another perspective it may have seemed like him and his angel barely got along, they lived and would have died for each other, as close as a dæmon could be to his partner.

It was Furud who first shattered the illusion, as it were. Anna had just run some message for Michael like she had done a million times before, and that got Furud thinking. Thousands of messages, darting across heaven, all forgotten in the end. What was the point, at the end of the day? Sure, they had rose to the top, but what for? What was the purpose, in the end? He looked down at the humans, saw how much they had achieved, and grown, and lived and died, and Farud envied them. But this was dangerous thinking, trouble for him and his Anna, and for what? He should forget about it.

Oh, did he try.

But an angel can always sense any discord with their dæmon, and Anna asked what was wrong, and Furud couldn't bring himself to lie. Exactly three weeks later, they were free-falling, alight and entering Earth's atmosphere, shrieking in pain and loss and exhilaration, and, best of all, not knowing what was coming next.

**Castiel and Maleeya**

Castiel has many stories, but most of them now belong only to Maleeya.

She remembers the days when everything was alright, when responsibilities could be slipped away from as easily as water seeping through the ground, and for days at a time her and her angel could fly amongst he endless stars, millions of miles away from life of any kind. They would swim in suns, and play hide-and seek behind galaxies, and race comets across the ebony skies.

She remembers the days where fear and confusion first came into play, when the hole ripped where God's most beloved son used to fly was fresh and ragged and terrifying. When angels, for the first time, were unsure of their place. When Balthazar encouraged Cas to keep his head down, and Gabriel exercised caution, and Michael began the long painful process of losing hope, and Raphael had to do her job in earnest for the first time.

She remembers when Lucifer was cast down, and Heaven began to free itself again, and just when everything could have been okay, Naomi took power and Gabriel left, and Maleeya and Castiel only have each other.

She remembers when Naomi first picks up that scalpel, and Castiel begins to forget.

Maleeya won't let herself be caught, her tiny form zipping faster than Naomi's grasping grace or huge dæmon, and even when Castiel screams under the angel's cold, cold hands Maleeya has to stay strong, because the only way her angel can live on the way he used to is through her memories, and to take those away would be to kill him completely. They only give up on trying when Naomi's dæmon finally catches her tiny body in his monster talons, and with a twist she's free and her long, sharp beak removes one of his eyes. His screams echo Naomi's, and then Castiel's. They can't punish her, so they punish him, and Maleeya prays for it to be over. The only reason they both don't die, is because they know living is more torturous for her, and Castiel's now one of the best soldiers they have. His mind wiped clean after every mission, he lives an oblivion, and she lives a hell.

But she still remembers, and that just makes everything worse. She remembers Heaven displaying it's wrath on the Pharoah who refused to let Moses and his people go free. Castiel goes from door to door, herself hovering helpless beside him, watching him slaughter grown men and infants alike, his grace as blank as if he was doing paperwork and she cries.

"Shh, Maleeya." He hisses, approaching a bed with a silver blade splashed with blood, and another part of her dies.

She remembers the mistakes he was assigned to kill, the Nephilim children, and how she waited until they'd finished, and Castiel is back on lockdown, and she cries.

She remembers the entire bloodlines he was assigned to purge from the earth, the methodical slashing and screams falling on deaf ears, and finds she doesn't have any tears left to cry, finds that she's empty inside, and simply awaits death.

They have a new mission now, it's saving someone now, instead of killing, but they haven't stopped doing that, either, and Maleeya is too numb to care. They're being summoned somewhere, an old barn, painted with warding she would have found laughable lifetimes ago, and as they stride in, sparks flying, she dimly wonders if leaving him would be better than this.

Dean watches the man approach, and fires his gun with perfectly steady hands, which doesn't do anything, of course. He's average height, with black hair and a tan trench coat, and his dæmon is a hummingbird, jewel bright colours contained in feathers smaller than Dean's fingernail, a beak seemingly made out of silver, long and thin and razor sharp. When whoever this man is, Castiel, puts Bobby to sleep, she looks at his limp form with huge black eyes, like she envies him.


	3. Bathazar, Samandriel, Naomi, Zachariah, and Metatron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know. This chapter is basically all the angels I could think of dæmon for who weren't interesting enough or big enough characters to warrant their own chapters. Sue me.

**Balthazar and Kyna**

Angels and Dæmons were supposed to be completely at one with each other. They would care for and love each other, comfort each other in times of loss, and advise one another. They were two halves of one being, two separate personalities which could only truly be whole with each other. (Not that they could ever be apart, but any discord between angel and dæmon hurts like a knife to the heart.) They would be each other's constant companion, to reinforce their morals and keep their hearts on the right track.

The problem, of course, as in the case of Balthazar and his magpie, Kyna, was that when neither party appears to have any morals, the end result is twice as devastating.

Balthazar liked to steal. Nothing serious, nothing large, and for the most part he was a brilliant soldier. But Balthazar was God's first intentional experiment into free will, and like Uriel after him, the feeling of doing something banned, something wrong, was just too much to resist. There was nothing he could steal from heaven (not yet), but the humans had collected a veritable trove of treasures they knew nothing about, and this proved an inescapable temptation.

Having Kyna for a dæmon, the literal thief among birds should have really been a warning sign to Balthazar's superiors, but the idea of anyone wanting to steal anything was alien to them. Thirteen death sentences, fifty-four of Kyna's plots, several rotten tomatoes and an entire country teeming with angry natives later left them feeling a little more open-minded. It also left Balthazar grounded. Permanently. It was okay, he could find something else to steal.

A couple of millennia later, he did. It was Kyna's idea. When Raphael came to his home, searching for Cas, when the Winchesters began calling on him for help, when all of it inevitably ended with a friend's knife in the back, he decided it was her worst one yet.

 

  **Samandriel and Paulette**

Samandriel was getting _really_ tired of getting treated like a fledgling. It wasn't his fault he was short.

The archangels, of course, were older than just about everybody. Still, he was certain they weren't _that_ nice to anybody else. Those like Ezekiel, Barachiel and Naomi were condescending towards everyone. But when Anna said everything just a tad slower, and Hester asked him if however-many days he was set to have on earth was too many, and Castiel, _Castiel_ , ruffled his feathers, Samandriel was ready to start a riot.

His robin-dæmon, Paulette, found it hilarious, of course. She was small for a dæmon too, but no one made any comments about _her_. Every single time his authority was doubted, or, worse still, a height joke, she would laugh so much she'd all but fall out of the sky. It was completely ridiculous. He was one of the older angels, for his Father's sake. He just happened to be a little smaller than average. Even his vessels seemed to always be young, which he was blaming on angelic intervention above anything else.

Of course, him and Paulette were still treated with _respect_. It wasn't their fault that Samandriel just happened to have the grace of a century-old infant. They were regarded highly, at first sent on the higher level missions to earth. When things started to change, Samandriel retreated back to heaven, keeping the peace and looking after the souls. For a few years their life was barely worth living, and then Lucifer was gone, and demons were rising, and Heaven was overcome with new politics and false friends. Paulette didn't laugh as much any more. Samandriel found himself taking her place, keeping the cheer and trying to encourage that things would get better. That was all that he knew.

A long time later, his mind pushed over the brink by the demon Crowley's well placed needles, arm slung over his brother and his robin fluttering free beside him, he thought that things _were_  going to get better, but he was wrong.

 

**Naomi and Ishwar**

Naomi had always been destined for big things. Not great, necessarily, not even good or kind, just great. There were so many paths she could have gone down, so many choices she could have made, but her and Ishwar were strong, and clever, and could read angels like a book. If there was such thing as a scientist among angels, Naomi would be it.

She had never been granted official power, but was the kind of person who gave out an aura of authority, of control. Control became her obsession, after a while. Lucifer's rebellion scarred her deeper than a lot of the other angels, left her in the unfortunate knowledge that her Heaven, her home, wasn't as safe and happy as she had always believed it to be. So she made her move.

All it took was one angel. One angel, called to her office, leaving with a sudden realisation that Naomi could lead, could prevent another Lucifer. One angel to whisper to their friends, to spread the word, and when she suggested a small position in Heaven's leadership the public reaction was so great no one dared refuse, and those who did got sent for a chat in her office. These were the days of great uncertainty, and fear, and when the dust cleared Naomi was sitting on the very top, with her huge squawking snowy owl flapping overhead.

Because controlling the angels meant controlling Heaven, and her and Ishwar were both in perfect agreement that nothing bad would ever happen to their home again.

 

  **Zachariah and Rosamund**

When the Winchesters met Zachariah, they were suitably terrified. Even if they didn't look it, he could tell these things. He was modest, of course, when telling the story to his colleagues. 'Very terrified' or 'really scared' were quite reasonable claims, he thought. But when there was a lot of snorting, and sarcasm, he began to wonder why people didn't find him scary.

He was certainly petrifying, Zachariah knew, his vessel the very picture of terror, like the whisper of a storm on the horizon, so it must have been Rosamund letting him down. _Again_. He loved his dæmon, of course, in his own little ways, twisted and deluded though they were, but sometimes she was just, and he would never say this aloud, a little bit of a _disappointment_.

Rosamund, among other things, just didn't _look_ the part. A plump lovebird, with ridiculously bright plumage, displaying the most vibrant colours God's kingdom had to offer, and a beak, not particularly sharp, always half open, like she was struggling to understand a joke. She spoke perfectly intelligently, and yet her bulging eyes and the _constant_ way she hopped from foot to foot gave her the appearance of a numbskull. But it was fine, surely the other angels knew of her intelligence and respected her? Apparently not.

Zachariah would have loved to say field work was where she really excelled, but it would have been a lie. She enjoyed it more, that was given, was almost disturbingly thrilled when it came to catching and killing their quarry, but she was _impossible_ to work with. Rosamund constantly undermined his plans, never waited until they were supposed to to strike, and was just generally a nuisance.

Rosamund, on the other hand, was really very annoyed at her angel. She loved him, truly, but he was just, and she would never say this aloud, a little bit of a _disappointment_.

Zachariah was just so _obsessed_  with how the other angels thought of him, as if that mattered. He would complete the same form, all day, every day, for a hundred years, if he thought he might get a promotion. And worse, he was obsessed with how others might see  _her_ , even if there was no one around. So what if her beak hung open and she hopped from foot to foot? She was bored!

Field work was her one respite, getting more common, luckily. But Zach would insist on hugely over complicated plans, ridiculous formations, as if he was playing with tin toy soldiers, dancing them along like puppets on a string. So many times she had dragged him along to where the quarry was, and just put her unusually long talons through their dæmon's neck. But no, that wasn't allowed, for their Father's sake.

They loved each other, of course, more than words can say. And if they were annoyed at each other, maybe it was because they saw in each other the worst qualities of themselves.

 

**Metatron and Rachana**

If Rachana was being honest, she didn't know what to think about her angel any more, and it drove her insane.

In the Beginning, when their father was there, everything were so easy. Dæmon and angel were meant for each other, and all of God's other creations were lesser, dæmonless. They would debate for hours over God's next creation, what it would look like, if it would have intelligence, or, most importantly, a soul. She was realistic, she always won, while he would pin his hopes on the next ones being like them, if not better.

They were happy, if unimportant, until two things happened. The first, of course, was Metatron becoming God's scribe. Suddenly the nameless Cupid had been elevated to almost the level of an Archangel, and spent the most time out of anyone with their Father. This was an unexpected change, if not unhappy, but they got used to it. Hell, it was fun. And then of course, the second change, which was Metatron winning their debate, finally, because the humans had come along.

Rachana and her angel were among the few who actively loved the humans, and the arts they brought with them. It was scarcely days before the conflict that had been brewing for centuries decided to explode, that Metatron it decided it would be in their best interests to leave. This was when she first started thinking, ' _what if we're not as perfect with each other as we want to believe?_ '. Because when Metatron said 'live among the humans' he meant a life of moving around, snatching one vessel after another, and not thinking about heaven. And reading. Lots of that.

This wasn't peace, any more than it was for the angels fighting and dying above. When Lucifer was thrown into the cage, they were watching. Rachana's heart was bursting, thinking finally they would get to go home. When she realised he thought different, she nearly left him. She convinced herself it wouldn't hurt too much, and not for long, and then she would be free. ' _Tomorrow_.', she repeated to herself, each night, like a mantra. 'Tomorrow I'll go. I'll return to heaven, make them see I'm not a traitor. I _will_.'

While Rachana muttered herself into believing she was making a difference, Metatron schemed. Lucifer's decent had scarred him more than anyone knew, and he _would_  find a way to make sure it wouldn't happen again. Then he would be welcomed back into heaven, and his dæmon would love him like she used to. When the Winchesters stumbled into his path, he'd had enough time to think of a plan, and even share it with Rachana. Now he sat there, a smirk on his face he found he couldn't mask, and his white-speckled chicken-dæmon in his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kyna is a Gaelic name meaning 'intelligent'.
> 
> Paulette is an American name meaning 'little' or 'small'.
> 
> Ishwar is a name meaning 'powerful'. Or occasionally, y'know, 'the supreme god'. Let's stick with powerful.
> 
> Rosamund is a German name. It can mean 'protection'.
> 
> Rachana is a Hindu name meaning 'creation'.
> 
> Oh yeah, and the Samandriel being one of the older angels is my personal headcanon, because the entire fandom treats him like a fledgling.

**Author's Note:**

> Safiya is an Egyptian name meaning 'pure'.
> 
> Cyrilla is an English name meaning 'feminine' and also 'proud'.
> 
> Jaylen is a Greek name meaning 'healer' and 'tranquil'.
> 
> Nia is a Welsh name meaning 'bright'.


End file.
